He passed a homeless old fuck digging through a garbage can by the side of the path and muttering to himself. V.J. ignored the shambling man and strode up to the tennis court, opening the chain-link gate and shepherding in the terrier. From the other side of the park, he heard the familiar sounds of children playing, and, from the street, the noise of passing cars. Tying the dog’s leash to one of the low poles that held up what was left of the net bisecting the center of the court, V.J. withdrew the sacrificial knife from the sheath attached to his belt. Before the animal could sense anything amiss, he knelt down, petted the dog’s head with his left hand and with his right hand shoved the knife deep into the terrier’s heart. There was a gush of blood, a single bark and then the dog was still.

V.J. glanced about to make sure he hadn’t been seen. He could still hear the children playing, and far away saw a woman jogging, but no one was in this part of the park—except that homeless fuck, staring at him from the other side of the fence.

His heart lurched in his chest when he saw the ragged figure. But the bum was crazy and even if he told people what he’d seen, no one would believe him.

V.J. stood, raising the bloody knife, intending to scare the man off, but to his surprise, the bum nodded his approval and smiled.

Respect.

The man was giving him respect, and V.J. was filled with a satisfied sense of pride. He nodded back his acknowledgment, and the derelict wandered off, carrying a bag of recyclable cans and bottles over his shoulder

V.J. got back to work.

The dog had four legs, so after amputating the last one, V.J. took out the compact mirror he carried in his pocket and carefully pulled out four of his eyelashes, two from the left lid, two from the right. Aloud, he said, “One, two, three four, that’s all there is and there ain’t no more.” Then he put the eyelashes in his mouth and swallowed.

Placing one dog leg in each of the tennis court’s four corners, he left the limbless body at the foot of the net, equidistant from each side, and then walked around the net four times, stomping his left foot at the completion of each circuit.

It was freeing to perform such an expansive version of the ritual and to do it outdoors, exhilarating to kill the animal in such close proximity to other people. He felt invincible, and as a special treat to himself, he pulled down his pants, pissed on the corpse, then pulled his pants up again and ran all the way home.

FOUR

1

His parents were still fighting when he woke up. Nick could hear the low drone of angry voices from the kitchen, and he debated whether he should sneak up quietly so he could hear what was going on, or make enough noise in his approach to silence them. He opted for the former, and the muffled sound separated into individual words as he tiptoed carefully down the hall.